


The Space and Time of an Immortal Android

by isiac



Series: DBH Randoms [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Depressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Funerals, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Dies, Hurt, Reader is pregnant, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24133876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isiac/pseuds/isiac
Summary: Hank Anderson passes away in his sleep, and it comes as a shock to you and Connor.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Series: DBH Randoms [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741465
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	The Space and Time of an Immortal Android

When you and Connor got the news, it was Sunday, and you’d just spoken with Hank a few days ago. He’d been doing fine -- had even planned on building you and Connor a dining room table for the new house you’d be moving into.

Connor’s LED was solid red, _had_ been stuck on red for a whole forty-eight hours and counting, and you were trying not to freak out too much -- stress wasn’t good for the baby, but you knew it was impossible to keep everything bottled up for too long.

The next night, you held Connor close and listened to him breathe in the crook of your neck. You kept one hand at the nape of his neck and the other wrapped around his torso, holding him close, but he still hadn’t cried.

The funeral planning went by slowly, agonizingly so, but the funeral itself came and went like a train throttling through an empty station.

When it was over, Connor drove back to the apartment in silence. The funeral had gone as well as a funeral could’ve gone -- the majority of the DPD had shown up, and members from Jericho had come to deliver hundreds of flowers.

But it didn’t feel real. Nothing felt real. Nothing felt _final_.

You swallowed thickly as you followed Connor into the apartment, hanging up your black rain jacket. You slipped out of your black flats, about to say something to Connor, but he was already walking away.

He closed himself in the bathroom, and you sighed, defeated. You glanced down at your bump, stretching a hand over it, trying to swallow around the lump forming in your throat.

“Con?” You called out, approaching the bathroom. You knocked lightly, resting your head against the wall. “Connor?” You lowered your voice, knowing he could hear you.

“I’m fine.”

You inhaled deeply. “C--Come help me cook dinner. It’ll help you take-- It’s a good distraction.” You knew you’d sounded lame and unconvincing, but Connor opened the door anyway.

You pulled yourself away from the wall, straightening. Connor met your gaze, his brow furrowed and mouth parted. His LED swirled yellow before going blank.

He looked you over, and then his LED flickered back on -- to red.

“Please, tell me what you’re thinking,” you whispered, reaching for his hands. He let you hold them. “And -- And if not me, then someone else. We can find you--”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

You blinked a few times, feeling your eyes sting with tears. “What?”

You were about to ask again when Connor moved his hands in yours, thumbing over the backs of them. He finally met your gaze, eyes glassy, and his upper lip curled back in the presage of a sob.

“This,” he whispered. “I -- I don’t know if I can keep living like this. Like this, even after you yourself have . . .” He trailed off, mouth opening and closing around useless words.

“No, no, no,” you rushed to say, letting go of his hands so you could hold his face instead. “Don’t think like that, Connor.”

Tears started to roll down his cheeks, and you both stared at each other, breathing shakily.

“You are enough for me at this moment,” you said, trying to steady your voice. “I married you knowing you’d outlive me, that you’d stay young.” You moved a brown lock of hair out of his face, fingers trembling against his forehead. “I married you knowing this, Connor. You’re enough for me at this moment, and you’re enough for me until I’m not here.”

“It’s not _fair_ ,” Connor grit out, more tears falling down his cheeks. He raised his hands, and you thought he was going to push you away, but he grabbed onto your wrists, holding on tight.

You let out a sob, chest aching. “Connor, no. Connor, it’s fair. It _is_ fair, I promise you. Please, don’t ever feel guilty for living. For -- For outliving others.”

“But--”

“No,” you said, inhaling shakily. “You can miss, you can mourn, but don’t ever feel guilty for things out of your control.” You brushed your thumbs across his cheeks. “Please, Connor. You have to believe me when I say _this_ is enough. _You_ are enough.”

Connor’s face finally crumbled, and you mirrored him, unable to keep it bottled up anymore.

“If this is what it’s like . . . I -- I can’t think of a life without you,” Connor gasped. “I can’t, I can’t--”

You shushed him and wrapped your arms under his own, grabbing at his shoulders, at the back of his neck. You closed your eyes and cried into his chest, feeling his own arms wrap around you, holding you as close as possible -- without squishing your bump too much.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, but it felt like forever.

If only you actually had forever.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for angst -- feel free to leave comments or kudos.
> 
> This was just a warmup writing before I edited a chapter I'm posting for my main fic today, and you can find that [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588215/chapters/56598091). And [my tumblr](http://myisiacthings.tumblr.com/).


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